


3 Truths about Judy Hopps and 1 Lie by Nick Wilde

by strangetydes



Series: Zootopia City Gossip [2]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: #MostlyFluff, Also Finnick cusses. A lot., Comedy but Angst keeps sneaking in, F/M, Gen, It's supposed to be romantic fluff, OCs for plot purposes only, One Shot Collection, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-04-25 07:16:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14373681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangetydes/pseuds/strangetydes
Summary: A collection of one shots expanding on Judy's character and exploring Nick and Judy's relationship as it transitions from friendship to romance. Also: Nick is a fantastic liar when it comes to warding off romantic rivals.Sequel to 3 Truths about Nick Wilde and 1 Lie by Judy Hopps.





	1. Truth #1

**Truth #1: Judy Hopps is stubborn. Very stubborn.**

“I need to find Nick.”

A serious case of deja vu hit Finnick. There was no mistaking it: Judy Hopps had once again knocked on his van’s door in search of Nick. Yet, this Judy looked different from the one he saw over 24 hours ago. She wore the same clothes as yesterday, but today they were dirty and wrinkled, and her eyes were dazed instead of determined. Not to mention, she leaned heavily on a pair of crutches, sporting a bandaged thigh and a hospital wristband. 

“Please,” she said and hobbled one step closer. 

Finnick’s mind drew a blank. The rabbit didn’t need Nick; she needed a hospital. ‘Or rather, she needs to go _back_ to the hospital,’ he thought, studying her professionally bandaged leg. A faint yellow stain was seeping outwards from the inner wrappings. ‘Ugh. Gross.’

She limped another step closer. 

“NO! Stop. Stop moving. Can you do that for me, officer? Just. Stop. Moving,” he said and then paused. ‘She should sit,’ he thought. ‘She should sit, and I’ll go call Nick to fix _his_ rabbit problem. Everything’ll be fine. Deep breath. The injured police officer is Nick’s problem, not mine.’ He dumped clothes from a large plastic bin onto his van’s floor and jumped down into the alleyway. Inverting the bin, he gently pushed Judy onto the makeshift seat. Tired, she didn’t resist. When she shifted her hold on her crutches, Finnick noticed a crumpled piece of paper clutched in her paw. 

“I need to find—”

“I know,” Finnick cut her off. “I’m gonna call Nick and he’ll come. You sit here and wait. Okay?” The small fox darted back into the van before she could reply back. He fumbled underneath the driver’s seat for his cell phone. Barely a minute passed between finding the phone and speed-dialing Nick. Impatiently, Finnick bounced his paw repeatedly against the driver’s wheel while it rang. His mind was racing. Goddamn Nick, and goddamn that he ever met Judy Hopps. What the hell happened to those two last night? 

He didn’t want to admit he was afraid his friend was somewhere injured, like the rabbit, unable to answer his phone. 

“What?” Nick’s groggy voice asked when he finally picked up. 

And Finnick would definitely never admit he was relieved to hear Nick’s voice. “Your bunny cop is here, by my van, beat up and asking for you.”

“Wait, what?!” Nick’s alarm was practically palpable over the phone. 

“You need to get your mangy butt over here. NOW.” Finnick heard clattering and rustling, and the red fox dropping his phone at one point, if the slew of cussing was any indication. He couldn’t believe it; Nick never cussed. Finnick could count the number of cusses he’s heard the other fox utter on one paw. Somethin’ about that bunny was twisting somethin’ inside of Nick. 

Slightly out of breath, Nick finally replied, “Judy’s supposed to be in the hospital. She can barely walk right now. How the hell did she get to your van??”

“How the hell should I know? She’s got a bandage leg, crutches, and looks drugged up.” Finnick heard a door slam shut and the background noise of heavy rain. 

“She is drugged. On _painkillers_. Heavy duty ones according to the ER doc. Tch, why is she even—” Nick cut himself off. “Listen, are you in the usual spot in Sahara Square?”

“Yeah.”

“Stay there. And keep Judy there. I’ll arrive in under half an hour.”

“What I’m supposed to—Nick? Nick? Goddammit, you hung up. You effing jerk,” Finnick sighed and glanced towards the van’s open back doors. Judy still sat on the plastic bin. She was staring off into space, both her head and eyelids drooping slightly. Walking over, Finnick again jumped out of the van. 

She perked up immediately. “Where is Nick? I need to find him.”

“Nick’s on his way, Officer Hopps. He’ll come to us, so you stay put and off that leg.” 

She frowned. “I’m not that injured.”

“Whatever is oozing outta your bandages is making me nauseous, so I’m inclined to disagree with that statement. Plus, last time we met you were helluva lot more alert. And weren’t speaking so damn slow. Nick said you was hopped up on painkillers and should be in the hospital. That sound about right, bunny?”

“You can call me Judy. Not bunny. Not Officer Hopps. Judy. I’m not so ‘hopped up’ on painkillers to notice that you won't call me by my name.”

He snorted. “Experience has taught me better than to be overly familiar with cops. You all preach about being on the right side of the law, but I’ve never met a more vindictive bunch of animals than the ZPD.”

She paused, obviously trying to find the proper response. “We’re not _all_ like that. Besides, I’m not even a police officer right now. Gave up my badge two months ago.”

“I heard you were on temporary leave.”

“Yeah...my chief made me take a leave of absence instead of letting me quit outright. He said I should take time off and think about it before actually making the decision. But how on earth did _you_ hear about that?”

“Mammals like me take notice when the rookie cop who took down the mayor tries to take off.”

“You mean criminals like you?”

“I prefer the term ‘business opportunists’.”

“Business opportunists who take advantage of honest, hardworking folk.”

“Now, _there’s_ that discriminatory police attitude. I knew you had it in you, bunny. So I can’t be hardworking as a fox, can I?”

“It’s Judy,” she snapped. “I’ve seen you be hardworking, but you ever try being honest for once?”

“I tried being honest, rabbit!” Finnick snapped back. “So did Nick. So did every single damn fox in Zootopia! And you know what that gets us? A dead-end job that pays minimum wage, where they don’t even trust you to count the cash register. I met Nick while working at a Rodentia fast food joint where the damn gerbils thought it was hilarious to run over our tails with their little cars.” He growled. “But they were prey. With fancy jobs, fancy degrees, and fancy cars. Prey with money is the quality you consider honest and hardworking, regardless of how they actually earned it. I did try, Judy, but no one was willing to give me a chance. No one except other crooks.” 

Judy was quiet, her face finally betraying clear lines of exhaustion. Finnick also spotted tears welling at the corners of her eyes. 

He sighed. He had a feeling Nick would kill him if he arrived and found a crying rabbit. “Sorry, I shouldn—”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I deserved that,” she interrupted. “I made an assumption without understanding the situation and you shouldn’t apologize to me for defending yourself.” She laughed shakily. “I did the same thing when I said only predators could go savage. Look where that got us.”

“But preds are the only ones going savage.”

She scrunched up her face, giving him a sideways glance. “You haven’t see the news yet, have you?”

“I live in a van. Do I look like I own a TV? I go to a bar if I need to catch breaking news.”

“Then I’ll save you a trip. Breaking news today is that predators were infected with a serum that made them go savage. Didn’t matter if you were prey or predator, as long as your skin absorbs the Nighthowler serum, you’d go crazy and attack the nearest mammal. That’s why I needed to find Nick yesterday: To track down who’s been manufacturing it. Turns out that Mayor Bellwether was behind the whole plot.”

“You and Nick took down another mayor? Shit, bunny, keep this up and no one will want the job out of fear of being arrested.”

“My. Name. Is. Judy,” she gritted out. 

Finnick couldn’t help it; he smirked. Nick would definitely kill him for this, but the more pissed off the rabbit was, the more alert she became. Extra bonus was that she stopped crying. “Let’s be honest, _bunny_. There’s no reason for me to learn your name. Ever.”

“One more time. My. Name. Is. Judy,” she said again through gritted teeth. He could see the imaginary smoke steaming from out her long ears. She stood up, then immediately toppled over, biting back a yelp of pain when her leg hit the ground.

Finnick rushed to her side to pull her upright. However, the moment he was within arm’s reach, Judy shoved a crumpled-up paper into his face. The same one she had clutched in her paw the entire time since she arrived. 

“And this,” she said, “is why you’ll learn my name, Finnick. As long as you’re friends with Nick, I’m gonna be a permanent fixture in your life. Deal with it.” She shakily unfolded the paper, attempting to smooth out the crinkles but only succeeding in tearing an edge. The words, ZOOTOPIA POLICE DEPARTMENT EMPLOYMENT APPLICATION FORM, ran across the top of the sheet. Below that, the entire form was filled out in Nick’s handwriting. Finnick’s eyes lingered on the check mark in the box next to the words, _police officer_. 

His jaw fell and he said, “Nick would make a lousy cop.”

“Really? Why?” 

“Well, one: he’s a criminal. Two: I’ve never even heard of a fox being a cop. Three: He’s not cut from the same...stuff, character, whatever you wanna call it, as other cops.”

Judy pulled herself back onto her stool. “Okay, one: I thought the proper term was ‘business opportunist’. Two: Did you ever hear of a bunny cop before I came along? Someone has to be the first. Three: Isn’t that exactly why Nick would make a fantastic cop? You said it yourself, the ZPD can be biased towards certain mammals. That problem isn’t going to magically fix itself overnight; change has to come from within the department. Change in the form of new police officers like Nick. I can’t think of better partner than him.” She clutched the form tighter, and the small tear in it grew. 

A slow smile crept onto Finnick’s face. “Judy, I think that last sentence is somethin’ you and I both can agree on.” 

“I lost the chance for Nick to be my partner once. I can’t let that happen again.” She blinked back tears, refusing to let them fall, and absentmindedly rubbed her leg right below the bandage. 

“THAT’s why you left the hospital??” an out-of-breath voice asked, drawing both Judy and Finnick’s attention. 

“Oh, Carrots…” said Nick. He rounded the building corner into the alleyway.

“Nick…” Judy tried standing up again, but Finnick pushed her back down. “I didn’t have your cell number,” she continued, “I didn’t know where you live.”

“In a wet dump,” muttered Finnick.

She ignored him. “I didn’t have any way of contacting you, but I needed to find you…f-for your application. We need to re-submit it. I meant what I said, you’d make a great cop.”

Nick walked over, taking the form before she could wrinkle it further. He traced a finger pad over the paper’s tear. “I can’t submit this,” he muttered, more to himself than her.

Judy sprang up. “NIC—” 

However, Nick was quicker than her shout and pressed a paw to her mouth before she could finish. “Judy, look at the wrinkles. Look at the tear on this thing. You’ve choked the life from this paper. If the tree wasn’t dead before, it certainly is now. I can’t submit it like this. I can only see one solution here: Go to the ZPD and fill out a new application. Then afterwards, we’re driving you back to the hospital where you will _stay_. No arguments, understand?”

She nodded. 

“Good,” he said, removing his paw. “Finnick, care to give us a ride to the police station?”

Finnick was already bug-eyed in disbelief at Nick’s words, but his eyes managed to widen further. “I’m not gonna walk into a police station of my own damn free will.”

A bark of laughter escaped Nick. “I’d never dream of asking you to, pal. Only asking for a ride to the station and then the hospital.”

“I’d never dream of you being a cop, but look where we are today.” He threw his paws up into the air. “Okay, fine, I’ll drive ya both to the station.” 

“Thank you, Finnick,” Judy said. 

He sighed. “You’re welcome, Judy.” 

Her eyes lit up and she smiled. 

“C’mon, Nick,” he continued, “let’s lift her into the van.” Once the two foxes secured the injured rabbit into the back seat and shut the door, Finnick pulled Nick a few feet away from the van and Judy’s sensitive ears. “Becoming a cop, really? Are you sure about this?” he whispered. 

“Nope, I’m only sure about two things,” Nick said, rather confidently. He held up two fingers to tick off his reasons as he listed them. “Number one: I may not know her that well, but Judy Hopps is stubborn, I mean, stubborn. She won’t return to the hospital until I’ve submitted that application...and maybe given her my cell number.” 

He paused for dramatic effect, a pause so long that Finnick asked “And number two?”

“Number two: I’d look fantastic in a pair of ZPD aviator shades.” 

Finnick resisted the urge to smack his forehead, or better yet, smack the shit-eating grin off of Nick. God help him if the other fox actually managed to graduate from the academy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planned to write this sequel almost year ago and am determined to finish it. One thing I learned about myself while writing this is that I really like listing things. Seriously, I have Nick, Judy, and Finnick list bullet points, like, four times in this chapter. You'll also notice the listing of points in the original work, 3 Truths about Nick Wilde and 1 Lie by Judy Hopps. Also, spoiler for next chapter: More listing.
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated. Updates will be slow going since I'm a full-time employee and soon-to-be part-time student. Thank you for reading!


	2. Truth #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left me kudos and those who commented: A special shout-out to A_Worm, Gunslinger99, Davidci Codex, and HermonieRose199! 
> 
> Chapter 2 is a definite callback to Chapter 4 of the my previous work, 3 Truths about Nick Wilde and 1 Lie by Judy Hopps. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend that you do.

**Truth #2: She’s a bit violent.**

At times, Nick wondered why a sweet little bunny like Judy, one with a heart of gold, wanted to be a cop. Then he remembered how incredibly violent she was. Sweet little bunnies don’t get their thrills from chasing down and arresting bad guys. 

“Ow, you miserable ball of fur,” Nick tried muttering under his breath, if only he could manage to catch it. Judy’s ears perked up. She bounced lightly on her feet on the other side of the boxing ring, several feet away from where Nick leaned heavily on a corner post. With her giant ears, he never had a doubt she would hear him. 

She feigned a hurt expression. “Aw, no need to resort to name calling just cause you're losing!” She punched the air twice, a replay of her two shots to Nick’s stomach.

“You aren’t even hesitating.” 

“Criminals don’t hesitate, Nick. You have to be prepared to fight, no holding punches, no letting your guard down. Your days of sparring practice aren’t over when you graduate the academy. Gotta keep those skills sharp!” Judy punctuated her statement with another air punch. She even had the gall to smirk. The freaking bunny was enjoying every minute of this. 

Nick took a deep breath, then another one. He straightened his back with a grimace and stepped away from the corner post, one paw still clutching his stomach. He held two digits up on his other paw. “Number one: You, Carrots, are stereotyping. I was a crim—” Nick cut himself off, cleared his throat, and continued in a loud whisper, “a business mammal with, let’s say, questionable morals, but I was never violent.”

“Wha—”

“Rude, yes,” Nick interrupted, “but never violent. Not all criminals want to fight the cops. In fact the majority of us will just run at the mere sight of them, which leads me to point number two: The ZPD issues us tasers! Why would I ever get into a fistfight with someone else, when I have a freaking taser??”

She had the audacity to tsk him. “Nick. You can’t rely solely on your taser. What if you lose it in the field or a criminal knocks it out of your paws? You have to have paw-to-paw combat as a backup.”

“I thought _you_ were my backup. I distinctly remember signing a form saying that.”

“You signed a form saying I was your emergency contact number.”

“Exactly. In case of emergency for Nick Wilde, call Judy Hopps, my backup.” He sauntered over to her and dropped his voice another register, before continuing, “After all, when my partner’s the number one detective in the ZPD, there’s no one else who I want by my side. No one else who I want to watch my back. No one else who I want to share my be—”

Judy punched him in the gut. Again. 

Nick yelped and doubled over, rolling onto his back and re-clutching his stomach. 

She bumped her red gloves together, before slamming them down on the mat, one glove on each side of Nick’s head. Crouching over his scrunched up face, she whispered, “Number one, you can’t sweet talk your way out of everything, you sly fox. Number two, I did not lie to Chief Bogo about you and me NOT being in a relationship, only for you to blow our cover. Be careful of what you say in public, Nick. Especially when we’re at a gym known for the discount membership for ZPD cops.”

“This would be a lot more threatening if you weren’t such a cute bunny.”

She stood up with an exasperated sigh. Quickly, with all the speed he muster, Nick pivoted his torso, brought his legs forward, and kicked Judy’s legs from out beneath her. She shrieked and hit the mat with a thud. Nick scrambled to his feet and bolted for the other side of the boxing ring. 

“Tip from the academy, Judy: Never let your guard down.” He smirked at her glare and beckoned her forward with his own red boxing glove. 

The glare transformed into a gleeful grin and she charged him. 

*****************************************************

Nick deeply regretted provoking her the next day. He ached. Everywhere. Even sitting down to a cup of coffee in one of the breakrooms within ZPD Precinct 1 caused him to wince. He was pretty sure he had a bruise on his butt in the shape of a rabbit’s foot. Not only was Judy violent, but she fought dirty in a fist fight. 

Nick was rather proud of her for that...except when she was fighting against him. Shifting in his seat brought another wince. He gingerly blew the steam from the coffee’s surface before taking a sip. Mentally, he was thinking of the paperwork he could use as an excuse to sit at his desk and not move. Preferably for the rest of the day. He wouldn’t have to search hard for extra paperwork, considering that was Judy’s least favorite aspect of police work. The rabbit loved field work, but she’d avoid paperwork to the last possible moment if she could. By offering to complete it for her, Nick could earn brownie points with her as well as snag himself a recovery day. 

The approaching sound of humming brought his attention back to the present. Clawhauser walked merrily into the breakroom, four boxes of donuts balanced in his chubby arms, and Officers Johnson and Andersen trailing behind him. 

“Officer Wilde! I got dough~nuts! Grab them while they’re fresh,” Clawhauser practically sung.

The donuts were tempting; the prospect of moving was not. “I’m good,” Nick said, sipping his coffee. 

Clawhauser solved the dilemma for him. He plopped a box on the table in front of the fox and opened it. “C’mon, Wilde, the donuts are one of the best things about being on the force! You’re no longer in the academy. No more physical evaluations. No more training. And no more bland cafeteria food. Grab a donut!”

Nick snorted. “Tell that ‘no more training’ bit to Officer Hopps. She acts like the next eval is right around the corner.” He paused as a thought struck him. “Wait, Clawhauser. Did you pass through the academy? _You_ were able to pass physical evals?”

Johnson interrupted before the chubby cheetah could answer. “Clawhauser entered the department through the civilian track. Straight to admin, everyone knows that.” Clawhauser glared at him, but Johnson soldiered on. “More importantly, what do you mean about Hopps acting like there’s an eval soon? I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that, Wilde.”

Nick blinked, bewildered. “Easy there, lion. There’s nothing to elaborate on. Hopps and I were sparring and she kicked my tail into next week. Apparently, it’s an absolute _no go_ to be even a little rusty on the self-defense I learned in the academy.”

The other cat groaned and rubbed a paw down his face. “Dammit, Wilde. How could you lose?”

“Excuse me?”

“Second freaking time you let me down in the same month. This what I get for betting on a fox.” 

Nick grit his teeth together hard and slowly stood from his chair. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating, Johnson, but I do know I don’t like your choice of words.” As the second smallest mammal on the force and the only fox, Nick was always ready to stand his ground against a larger coworker for any discrimination. He’d be damned if he let history repeat itself.

“Uh-oh,” Clawhauser muttered, eyeing Nick’s raised fur. 

“Uhhhhhhhh…” Johnson’s face froze as the lion mentally replayed back his own words. 

Andersen jumped in to save the day before Johnson could shove his metaphorical foot further into his mouth. “Wait, Wilde. Stop and think of the donuts!” the polar bear demanded. 

Nick couldn’t hear an absurd phrase like that without actually stopping and blinking. “What?” he asked.

“Have you ever questioned where the donuts came from?”

The fox shot him a deadpan look. “You’ve never baked anything before, have you, Andersen?”

“Not what I meant, smartass. Have you ever wondered who bought the donuts?”

“I thought they were like the coffee, a free perk provided by the precinct. Aren’t they?” Nick glanced at Clawhauser who silently shook his head ‘no’. He continued, “Okaaay. So _who buys the donuts_?”

Andersen leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “ _We_ buy the donuts, Wilde. It’s a requirement that any winner of the office betting pool must purchase donuts for the precinct with their winnings.”

A slow smile spread on Nick’s face. “There’s an office gambling pool? What happens if the winner has some leftover money after the donut purchase?”

“Don’t call it gambling; we say betting. Winner pockets the leftovers. If anyone outside the pool asks, it was a small miscalculation when everyone was pitching in money for the donuts. We’re police officers, not mathematicians. But you know, no one invited to the pool lets it slip that there is an office pool. Catch my meaning, Wilde?”

Nick caught his meaning alright, along with Andersen’s stern look and unspoken warning. He laughed. “I was a business mammal before I was cop, polar pop. I wouldn’t dream of depriving myself a chance to earn your easy money. What type of things we bet on in this pool?”

“You’d have to ask our bookkeeper for bet guidelines.” Andersen nodded behind him and Clawhauser stepped forward. Johnson sidled up to the break room entrance, leaning casually next to the doorway and on the lookout for any unwelcome intrusion. 

“Clawhauser, you sly cat,” Nick said with glee. “This is fantastic.”

“This is under the radar. No snitches in the office pool; the chief has no idea and we want to keep it that way. That means you can’t tell anyone who’d blab to Bogo, which specifically means that you, Wilde, can’t tell Hopps,” Clawhauser replied.

“What? Hopps wouldn’t snitch.” 

“Listen, she’s the cutest thing in blue nylon that I’ve ever seen, but she’s too by the book. We can’t risk it. Besides, we have an open bet on her, and her knowing about it could influence the outcome.”

“The outcome I had betted on you to win, Wilde,” chimed Johnson from the door. “I believed in you, a fellow pred, and you let me down.”

“Bob, shut up and let Clawhauser talk,” Andersen growled. 

Nick eyed the two of them before turning back to the cheetah and saying, “Okay, what type of betting do you guys do and what bet is currently on Judy?”

Clawhauser laughed. “We bet on anything as long as it’s on nothing too serious. Main goal is to target little things, like who on the force can make McHorn laugh, how long Fangmeyer can last on a date, or who can beat Higgins in a race. He’s su~rprisingly fast for a hippo. As for Hopps...there’s a bet on who can beat her in a sparring match.” He lowered his voice, as if to soften the blow of his next words. “She’s super violent for such a cute bunny.”

“Hopps doesn’t like it when you call her cute,” Nick responded automatically, before he could even think the words. 

“Yikes, sorry, sorry!” Clawhauser looked to the doorway, almost expecting Hopps to materialize at the sound of her name. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m telling her any part of this conversation,” Nick said and then turned to Johnson. “It’s no secret that I was at the bottom of my class for physical evals, Johnson. Betting on me was stupid. You got nobody to blame but yourself for losing your own money.” He reached into the box on the table and grabbed a jelly donut, taking a bite out of it. 

“I would’ve won if my other bet on you was right,” Johnson replied. At the same time Clawhauser shouted ‘No!’ and Andersen hissed ‘Shhhh’. The polar bear also thwacked him in the arm to carry his point across. 

It didn’t land. “Owww,” the lion said while rubbing his arm. “What?? I thought he got back together with his ex. The bet’s off. Hopps and him ain’t da—”

Andersen grabbed Johnson by his collar and dragged him out the doorway and down the hall. Faintly, Nick could hear the polar bear say “Seriously, Bob. Shut up. It’s an active bet. Him and the boyfriend could break up and then Hopps…” before his voice faded from earshot. 

Nick spent a few more seconds staring at the doorway and took another bite of his donut, chewing slowly. “So, Clawhauser, what’s the other bet on me?”

The cheetah sighed, still shaking his head at Johnson’s slipup. “Wilde, if you’re gonna participate in the betting pool, then you can’t inquire about open bets on yourself. It’s against the rules.”

“Who decides these rules?”

Clawhauser grinned. “All rules are decided based solely on the discretion of the bookkeeper.”

“Clawhauser…Who started the betting pool? Is this an old ZPD tradition, or did the chief deny your request to use department funds to buy donuts?”

“Let’s not focus on who started the semi-illegal betting ring within the ZPD. Instead, let’s keep to the here and now, specifically focusing on the donuts before us.” The cat grabbed his own donut and bit into it. Sprinkles then fell off the glaze as Clawhauser slashed the donut through the air. “I’m going to cut to the chase. Nick, buddy, are you in the pool or are you out?”

“Oh, I am definitely in. And I want a piece of that bet on Hopps.”

Clawhauser shoved the remainder of the donut in his mouth; his cheek bulged since he didn’t chew the donut but just stored it there, like a hamster. Nick watched in mild disgust. The cheetah took his phone from his pocket and opened an app. Voice slightly muffled, he asked, “Who do you think can beat Hopps in a sparring match?”

“You.”

“What?” Donut chunks fell from Clawhauser’s mouth. 

“Yes, you, Benjamin Clawhauser. You all forget how well I know Judy Hopps. My bunny will fight with every ounce she has against any opponent who is the slightest threat, but she would never, ever attack a helpless victim, especially one who’s…kind of, let’s say, out-of-shape. Frankly, Spots, I think she’d give you a pity win.”

Clawhauser quickly chewed and swallowed his donut before more remains fell out. “You can’t bet on me!”

“Is there a rule that I can’t bet on the bookkeeper?”

“Well, no...”

“Great! I’ll see about arranging a match. Don’t ask how, all that matters is when Judy offers to spar with you, you say ‘yes’, ignore why she wants to spar with you, just say ‘yes’. Okay?”

“Ok—”

“It’s settled. Clawhauser, this has been a lovely little chat, real productive if I say so, but I got paperwork upstairs with my name on it.” Nick grabbed his coffee and another donut, and bolted from the breakroom. 

“—but my gym membership expired two years ago,” Clawhauser finished. He sighed, entering the minimum bet for Wilde on himself beating Hopps in a sparring match. 

Suddenly, a thought struck him. “Did Wilde just call Hopps ‘my bunny’?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things about this chapter killed me: 1) That there's no universally agreed upon spelling for 'taser' or 'tazor' or whatever you want to call it. It's still in flux. Merriam Webster, this is on you to solve! I suppose I could have used 'stun gun' but that doesn't pack the same punch (or shock, I should say) as 'taser'. 2) Writing 'business mammal' instead of 'businessman'. It felt so wrong and I don't know why. 
> 
> But I digress. 
> 
> If you liked the story, please leave kudos or a comment. Thank you for reading!


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